Time is Ticking
by blacksugarbomb
Summary: He knows all too well that time is ticking and slipping through the gaps in between his fingers even though he's trying so hard to stop it from doing so.  HK centric


**Author Note:** This was written as a spur of a moment thing… Listening to Eason Chan's _Tourbillon_ seriously got me started. This piece is mainly Hong Kong-centric and set in the future so some things may not fit perfectly… But some stuff is real. I think. Maybe. :| Hahaha~ I don't know about you but I do wear a watch all the time lol.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Hetalia or anything related to it.

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Hong Kong never wore a watch.

You would expect him, a busy man living in a city that never sleeps to wear a watch every minute of the day, a reminder of his tight daily schedules. Meetings to attend, reports to read and proposals to consider.

Either way, he never wore one.

To him a watch was unnecessary. He was immortal after all unlike the rest of humanity. Was there a need to wear a device that counts down towards a man's eventual demise? No, he had plenty of time to spend. Work always came first but his second motto was 'work hard, play hard' so when he got the chance, he would play to his heart's content – scare England with firecrackers, play pranks on China and whatnot, especially back in the day when he was merely the colony or territory of someone else. But in the blink of an eye, centuries passed and he feels that he can no longer afford to mess around like that. There was this uncertain feeling in the pit of his heart that in all honesty, he does not have all eternity to live.

He had dreams to fulfil.

Part of him hungers for freedom and urges him to develop into an independent sovereign state and form the Republic of Hong Kong and join the Commonwealth, screaming at him to make this dream reality before it's too late but this feeling was suppressed by the rest of his logical self, who knew the consequences of doing so. The rest of him feared China and so he buries this desire for independence away as far as possible, but he knows it's still there.

Then there was the other dream of one day where England would come welcome him into his home again, away from China who had long since changed from the person whom he used to know.

But he still hasn't satisfied any of these.

Before he knew it, the four seasons of the year passed by one after another and suddenly one peculiar autumn, Hong Kong realised that he has achieved everything that he could have hoped for – his economy thrived, his people were happy, injustice almost unheard of and his land's beauty and rich culture a cause of jealousy for many. All envied his success but he doesn't feel like he's opulent at all.

And now, as he lay there in a war wrecked clearing with rain smashing against his body like bullets, clothes caked in mud, wounds bleeding into bandages and eyes staring aimlessly at the grey skies, he couldn't help but wonder when time seems to be on the verge of running out for him, what exactly is important to him.

How many heartbeats did he sacrifice in exchange for stack after stack of money?

Was it worth it to waste those extra seconds just to attain other material possessions?

After mulling over the question for a while he came to a conclusion. You didn't need anything to prove that you've lived your life to the fullest – there is no need for high incomes, high statuses and need for utmost respect from everyone. Even if during his lifetime he had reached a ranking equal to that of an Earl and achieved the reputation of Chopin, it would not be worth it if he had to sell his soul for it.

Although it hurt him badly, Hong Kong couldn't help but laugh at his stupidity, the coarse laughter becoming a fit of pained coughs. He wanted to say out loud, "why didn't I realise this sooner?" but couldn't draw enough energy to make his vocal cords work. But no, even if he had the chance to go back, perhaps the day would have already become night before he got back to the past. He could reflect on all his past achievements and successes and apply his analysing skills which were sharpened over the years and probably still wouldn't be able to find out if he had gained a profit or suffered a loss. Not that it mattered anymore.

Perhaps he had finally gone mad, thinking of all this.

Looking to his side and into the large puddle right beside his head, he could see his own hideous reflection and could barely recognise the Asian staring back at him. Unconsciously, he had grown so much throughout the years unconsciously – his features were a lot more mature and perhaps he was a little bit taller than before. Hong Kong knows all too well that time is ticking and slipping through the gaps in between his fingers even though he's trying so hard to stop it from doing so.

How many heartbeats had he left? He had no idea but he knew the end was close.

He would count but he didn't even get to start.

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**Notes:**

There is an alliance called 'Hong Konger Front' that proposes an Independence Movement in Hong Kong to make Hong Kong a sovereign state. It is merely a collection of websites, not a group that physically does anything. There have been national flags for the 'Republic of Hong Kong' proposed and the alliance believes that Hong Kong should join the Commonwealth in the future.


End file.
